


Five Times Jean Lied

by JackalopingIntoTheVoid



Category: X-Campus (X-Men), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Love Triangles, Underage Drinking, except the important person in the triangle is Jean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 13:36:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20797469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackalopingIntoTheVoid/pseuds/JackalopingIntoTheVoid
Summary: And one time she didn't.--She’s never thought of Scott as anything other than a friend… but now she knows he’s interested, he would be a good choice. He’s caring but grounded, and his occasional little dry quips are always a pleasant surprise. Reliable.He’s not the kind of guy that puts stars in her eyes, but maybe she could learn to love him.So she smiles coyly, shrugs and says, “Well, if I had to pick…” Before telekinetically stealing back her textbook.Ororo laughs. “Knew it! He’s so your type. A strait-laced boy for a mature girl.” She lets the textbook go, but rolls over onto her back, covering the space Jean was going to put it. “Too boring for me. If I was gonna send you on a blind date, I’d set you up with Logan.”





	Five Times Jean Lied

**Author's Note:**

> This is another X-Campus fic, since apparently I’m doing this now regardless of how anyone feels about it, and while I usually avoid the Scott/Jean/Logan love triangle like it’s personally offended me (it has) X-Campus offers a unique opportunity: all three of them meet at the same time.
> 
> Faced with this frankly unprecedented change in dynamic, I’m damn well doing the thing. (Remember, they’re all teenagers in X-Campus. Logan is NOT 200 years old)

It’s pretty weird trying to adjust, at least for Jean. She didn’t have the position long, but she’d gotten used to being Professor Xavier’s teaching assistant. It _had_ been somewhat awkward, helping to manage the education of students the same age as her– or older, in some cases– but it made a sort of sense.

For most of Jean’s life she’s been acutely aware of her… difference. She’s always known that she’s separate from ‘ordinary people’, whether they’re other kids at school or her own parents. She’s always known she isn’t _normal_.

Of course, she’s well aware that Xavier’s other chosen aren’t exactly run-of-the-mill themselves, but you’d never know that to look at them. It’s like they put their strangeness away somewhere before going out in public, rather than carrying it with them wherever they go. If you saw them in the cafeteria or overheard them talking on the grounds you wouldn’t think them any more or less remarkable than the hundreds of other students around them.

(Logan, she thinks, carries his strangeness with him, but he wears it comfortably and makes it seem like it belongs.)

The Professor once told Jean that her power had manifested at an unusually young age; she’d never really had a time when she felt she could act like she wasn’t abnormal. Like she wasn’t secretly harbouring a great and terrible power.

Perhaps that’s the difference. The others had their powers thrust upon them suddenly after an unextraordinary childhood and probably enjoy acting like nothing drastic has changed. Jean never even considered that she could set the burden of her knowledge down– she doesn’t think she knows how.

So they get to live day to day like ordinary young people, lessons and homework and late night parties and arguments over hogging the bathroom, while Jean had become Dr. Grey, the new teaching assistant who held authority over the students but deferred to the Professors. At least as a teaching assistant she still had a place, was _expected_ to be held apart.

Now she’s just another little girl that doesn’t fit in.

“Jean?”

Jean starts, looking up from her paper to see McCoy– Hank. To see Hank looking at her from the desk in front of her. It’s Xavier’s biology class so they both know he won’t mind his team chatting quietly as long as they don’t disrupt the class. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t catch that.”

He smiles warmly, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “You doing alright? This has got to be a pretty big jump, all things considered. I mean, you were teaching half this stuff a couple weeks ago.”

Pushing her hair behind her ear, Jean smiles at Hank’s thoughtfulness. “Oh, no. Not at all! I mean, I only really handed out papers and things. Besides, now I don’t have to worry so much about someone asking me a question I can’t answer.”

Smirking, Hank responds, “You still do actually, but hey! Bobby never knows the answers and he’s doing just fine.”

Jean giggles along with Hank’s joke and thinks she’s doing okay with this ‘acting normal’ business.

* * *

The first night as Anna and Ororo’s roommate is nerve-wracking.

Jean’s an only child and her family never let her go to sleepovers or invite friends over when she was young enough to still have them. (Friends, she means. When they were all young enough to not care that she was different.)

She’s acutely aware of how powerful she is… and how little control she sometimes has.

It’s fine when she’s awake. She’s always focused and controlled when she’s awake. But she’s had enough nightmares to know that’s not the case when she’s asleep. More often than not it looks like a hurricane swept through the room, and though the same power that caused the problem makes it simple to fix, she can’t undo any damage done to her friends. She can’t heal wounds.

She’s not even sure what would happen– would she drag their unconscious minds into her nightmare with her? Would she just crush them with the wardrobe?

Needless to say, she doesn’t get much sleep that night.

The second night’s no better, and neither is the third. But it’s more than her own fear, now.

Ororo _moves_. Constantly. She can go to sleep in a perfectly reasonable position and wake up having turned 180 degrees with the blanket bunched up on the headboard. Jean’s so used to quiet that all the shifting and shuffling brings her back to alertness even from actual sleep.

Anna doesn’t move at all but when she was young, she fell out of a tree and broke her nose. So sometimes, if she goes to sleep at just the wrong angle, she snores like someone’s put gravel in a dryer. And stays in that position until morning.

Somehow, neither of them wakes each other.

On those mornings Jean doesn’t bother with makeup. She likes it most of the time, wore it even while masquerading as an adult, but right now she’s too tired and irritable to put in the effort. Instead she focuses her telepathy on everyone else’s perceptions so she’s the only one who knows how awful she feels.

* * *

Ororo’s got that look in her eye, and Jean can tell from her surface thoughts that she’s bursting to tell a secret.

(Jean tries not to pry so much now that she’s no longer their teacher. It feels less justified somehow, now that she’s in the same boat.)

“So!” Ororo sets both of their textbooks aside, halting Jean’s attempt at the homework. She’d be glad of the break if she wasn’t so worried about the reason. It’s hard not to look deeper into her friend’s mind for the answer, just to get it over with.

“Have you noticed the attention you’ve been getting? I mean, you’ve got that ‘good girl’ thing going for you, that’s always a bit of a tease, but your similarity to the hot teacher that mysteriously left? People are looking at you like they hit the jackpot!” _But not quite as much as–_

“What?” Jean interjects before she can pick up that thought. It’s frustrating not to peek when her thoughts are so loud, but the idea feels like cheating. She doesn’t want to spoil whatever surprise has Ororo so excited, even if Jean herself would rather avoid it. “What are you talking about, why would _anyone_ be looking at me?”

She knows they look. She tries to ignore it, tries to ignore all the objectifying thoughts that plague her as she walks between classes. She ignored them as Dr. Grey, too, and she’ll happily keep ignoring them, but she honestly doesn’t know what about her, specifically, is so appealing to them.

“Are you serious? Jean, you’re like the definition of the dream girl! Green eyed redhead? Everyone’s fantasy?”

Oh. Ew.

“Well, I’m not interested in being anyone’s _fantasy girl_. So they can keep on dreaming.”

Ororo sits up and slaps her hand on Jean’s textbook as she reaches for it, dragging her unwillingly back to the conversation. “But Jean! There’s someone _in particular_ that has a full-on crush!”

Arching her eyebrow sceptically, Jean parrots, “A full-on crush?”

“Yeah, definitely! He keeps trying to play it cool but he can’t stop talking about how powerful and clever you are. He’s got it _bad_.”

It takes everything not to read Ororo’s mind. “Who?”

She leans in close, dark eyes dancing as she whispers, “_Scott. Summers._”

Well, that’s… flattering. Scott’s a sweet guy, and she’s never picked up anything inappropriate from him. He’s sensible, level-headed, and a good friend.

“Scott? Really?”

“Oh yeah, really! So what do you think? Is the polite but brooding Scott the kind of guy that puts stars in your eyes?”

No. She’s never thought of Scott as anything other than a friend… but now she knows he’s interested, he _would_ be a good choice. He’s caring but grounded, and his occasional little dry quips are always a pleasant surprise. Reliable.

He’s not the kind of guy that puts stars in her eyes, but maybe she could learn to love him.

So she smiles coyly, shrugs and says, “Well, if I had to pick…” Before telekinetically stealing back her textbook.

Ororo laughs. “Knew it! He’s _so_ your type. A strait-laced boy for a mature girl.” She lets the textbook go, but rolls over onto her back, covering the space Jean was going to put it. “Too boring for me. If I was gonna send you on a blind date, I’d set you up with Logan.”

Logan. Logan who stands out without being out-of-place, who sits alone at an empty table in the cafeteria but banters seamlessly with his classmates, who speaks his mind and fights for what he feels most strongly without caring what anyone else thinks. He seems content with the place he’s carved out for himself in the school, and Jean finds herself jealous.

She shouldn’t be. He’s reckless, wild, aggressive and downright rude. She’s surprised he didn’t stab any of the students-turned-sentinels that night, and he doesn’t seem to care about his grades at all. And he’s _constantly_ looking scruffy, wearing that old leather jacket and those torn jeans that so perfectly hug his–

Jean lifts the pillow from Ororo’s bed with her mind and flings it at her roommate’s face. “Logan? Are you kidding? Ororo, I thought we were friends!”

“Oh come on, it would be fun!”

“Yeah, for _you!_”

When Anna gets back from class, she’s met with a room full of feathers. “Seriously? You guys actually had a pillow fight in here? God, you two are an _actual_ teen flick. I’m not cleaning any of this up!”

Ororo protests while Jean smiles sheepishly and doesn’t think about leather jackets.

* * *

She’s been spending more time with Scott lately. And why not? They clicked pretty well on getting to know each other as students, and they often get a lot out of studying together. His presence is always undemanding, always keeping things simple. When Jean’s with Scott, she almost feels normal.

Of course, this is all getting a lot of attention from her roommates. Ororo delights in teasing her about it, giving questionable dating advice and texting her pictures of wedding dresses in class.

Anna’s less enthusiastic, but Jean figures that’s understandable. She knocked her first boyfriend into a permanent coma when her powers manifested and Donald was only interested in her because part of the sentinel programming had select individuals get close to the mutants Magnus knew about. It’s the same for Bobby; Reese Gorman doesn’t even remember who he is, let alone that she was ever interested in him.

Still, if Jean ever thought that Anna could provide a balancing opinion, she was quickly proven wrong. Anna prefers to avoid talk of relationships altogether, and when it’s not possible– such as when Ororo’s not content to meddle in only Jean’s affairs– she gets defensive.

“They’re more trouble than they’re worth. _Especially_ the boys in our year– I mean, what are our options? One of the slavering masses? Bobby?”

“Well, Scott the Red-Eyed Wonder’s been snapped up already and I’m pretty sure Bobby and Hank are dating each other, but who says we have to stick to our year? Besides, it doesn’t have to be a _relationship_. Am I really the only one here who thinks Logan would be a crazy one-night stand?”

Jean wonders if Ororo shouldn’t just ask him out already and save them both the trouble.

“Oh my God, no! He’s a _savage_ and he probably doesn’t shower. He’s not even good-looking! Ugh, I’d rather go out with _Emma_.”

“Same! I mean, I’m not so big on the whole _possessing me_ thing and she’s the shadiest bitch I’ve ever met, but she’s seriously_ hot._ It should be illegal for a white British chick’s flat ass to be that attractive.”

As eye-opening as this conversation is, Jean promised to meet Scott in the library. If she doesn’t leave now she’ll be late, and she tells her friends as much.

“Oooooh, you know he’s gonna ask you to the party on Friday! Am I right?”

She freezes half bent over, bag strap in hand but not yet pulled off the floor. Ororo’s thoughts are bright with interest, and even Anna’s curious in spite of herself.

Recovering, Jean straightens up and smiles. “He’d better! I’m wearing a skirt and everything.”

She keeps the smile on her face as she leaves the room and their laughter, and tries not to think too hard about the fact that she doesn’t know what she’ll do if he _does_ ask her.

* * *

She doesn’t expect him to ask. He’s never indicated an interest directly and she’s been content to pretend. But he does seem less put together this study session and though she worries it’s about her she pushes the feeling away in favour of being concerned for his wellbeing.

“We don’t have to do this now if you’re not feeling well, Scott. Is it your eyes again?”

“N-no, I’m fine. Really. Can we look at 22 again?”

Jean frowns. She doesn’t need to be psychic to see past the attempt to deflect. He’s sweating and fidgeting, just like he was in that first biology lesson before he lost control and blew up the boiler room.

“Scott.” She puts a hand on his arm, trying not to project too much urgency into her voice. “It’s okay to take a break. Why don’t we go outside, take a walk?”

“I…” His mind is warring with itself, nearly tearing him apart with indecision, but he finally acquiesces out of guilt for worrying her. “Alright.”

“Don’t worry about it, okay? Your health is important.”

He smiles sweetly in that way he does, his appreciation shining at the surface of his thoughts and she’s undeniably flustered.

They walk quietly until they’re outside in the breeze and the sunshine, and then they lapse into casual conversation. They stroll slowly, lingering, enjoying each other’s company as they unashamedly waste time and Jean forgets about everything for a little while.

And then Logan spots them.

Most everyone else makes the usual assumption that they’re spending time together as a couple, but if Logan shares that assumption he doesn’t let it deter him.

“Hey Red, is this guy bothering you?” He’s teasing, but Scott and Logan are such opposites in attitude that they constantly irk each other. (Scott’s admitted to Jean that he dislikes Logan’s impulsiveness and worries he’ll get someone hurt, and she can guess that Logan probably feels similarly about Scott’s adherence to rules and authority. He values his freedom.)

“We were talking, Logan.” Scott stays outwardly calm, but his mind is agitated. He doesn’t want Logan to ruin the nice time they’ve been having, but unsurprisingly the subtle dismissal is ignored.

“Did I ask you?” Eyes a darker green than hers hold a challenge, then something entirely different when he looks at her. “That a new skirt? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not wearing slacks.”

Jean feels heat flood her cheeks and she doesn’t know what to say.

“Jean.”

She turns back to Scott immediately, struck out of her daze by the sudden resolve in his voice. “Yeah?”

He takes a deep breath, and then says, “Do you want to come to the party on Friday? With me?”

A cold sensation washes over her and leaves every inch of her skin prickling uncomfortably. Her heart is in her throat and all she can see is the ruby red of his sunglasses. It’s happening. It’s happening on the grounds in the middle of the day and everyone around seems to have gone quiet and Scott’s mind is full of anxiety that he’s going to be rejected and she can hear Ororo’s excited, expectant thoughts nearby as well–

She blinks, swallows, whispers, “Like a date?”

Scott’s sweating again, but now she knows it’s not his powers. “Yeah. Like a date.”

Numbly, she puts on a big smile. She manages to respond in a way that sounds distant to her ears, “I’d love to!”

But it must sound genuine to Scott because he breaks out in his own beaming grin, utterly delighted. “Okay! Great!”

“Yeah.” Jean keeps smiling, she’s gotten good at that, and mercifully the bell rings to signal the next classes. “Oh, we should…”

“Yeah, yeah, of course! Uh…” Tentatively, Scott reaches out and holds her hand. She lets him and thinks _I could learn to love him_ as they walk back into the school. Her skin still prickles, everything sounds like she’s underwater and not once does she stop feeling Logan’s gaze burning into the back of her head, even though he doesn’t move from where he’s standing outside.

* * *

Walking aimlessly, Jean thinks offhandedly that she’s not safe out here. Which is ridiculous, because she’s a powerful telepath _and_ telekinetic, but also completely reasonable because she’s a fifteen year old girl and it’s dark and she thinks she might be drunk.

She doesn’t know, because she’s fifteen and generally law-abiding (although psychically masquerading as an adult teacher with a doctorate is at least fraud-adjacent) so she’s never had alcohol before. She’s also not sure how she would be drunk since she was drinking lemonade.

Still, she doesn’t feel good, and the flashing lights and throbbing music had made her feel nauseous, and all the people pressing close with their loud, overlapping thoughts– she told Scott she was going to the bathroom and she ran out of the building and down the road.

She’s not paying attention, not looking where she’s going, and when she zones back in again she’s in a park and can smell cigarette smoke.

She turns around and sees Logan leaning against a tree. He’s the source of the smoke and though she hates the smell Jean walks over to him anyway.

He stubs out the cigarette on the bin he’s next to and she appreciates it. “You okay, Red?”

“Sure. Just getting some air.”

He raises an eyebrow, then leans towards her, like he’s going to kiss her. He doesn’t, though. He just lingers a moment in her personal space, breathing, then leans back again unimpressed. “Half a mile and a mini bottle of Smirnoff says otherwise.”

“What are you talking about? I only had lemonade.”

He looks worried now. It’s an odd look on Logan’s face, but she likes it. “You’ve been drinking citrus vodka. I can smell it.”

“Oh.” She’s heard of alcopops, that taste like fruit soda but hit you hard. “That explains why I’m drunk.”

There’s a deep sigh, and then Logan’s wrapping his old leather jacket around her bare shoulders. It smells like cigarette smoke, mostly, but it’s real leather worn soft and it’s nice. “Come on, let’s get you back–”

Immediately, she pulls away from him, stumbling slightly in the heels Ororo had insisted she wear. “No.”

He sighs again, but doesn’t try to grab her. “Don’t you wanna get back to your date with Laser Face?”

“No!” Jean shouts, “No I don’t! I don’t wanna date Scott, I don’t wanna be at the party, it’s too loud and too bright and there’s too many people and I’m drunk I don’t wanna be drunk… !” She doesn’t smile. She cries instead, heaving ugly sobs that shake her so badly she falls to her knees.

Logan sits beside her, seemingly unbothered by the night’s chill. He’s not surprised by her declaration either– Scott might have been fooled but Logan saw right through her. “I don’t like parties either. Same reasons. That’s why I’m out here.”

Gasping, Jean manages, “I want to be out here with you.”

A soft, bittersweet chuckle drifts into the air. “Oh, I wish you were saying that sober.”

“Scott makes me feel like I can pretend we’re normal.” She doesn’t mean to ignore him, but now she’s started she can’t seem to stop. Stupid alcohol. “You make me feel like it’s okay to be weird.”

“I’m not weird.”

Jean just _looks_ at him. He rolls his eyes in response.

“Our old school coordinator wanted to rule the world, the rest of the student body was turned into murderous cyborgs by a racist brain in a jar and Hank does extra credit essays for fun. Not saying I’m not a freak, but ‘likes being outdoors’ isn’t _weird_.”

She sniffles, and she knows there’s more he’s hiding but she doesn’t pick up stray thoughts from Logan unless she’s trying, and she can’t find it in herself to dig deeper. “You _own_ being a freak. I can’t do that.”

“Um, have you met yourself? You’re the queen of playing it cool.”

Laughter bubbles up in Jean’s chest, slightly hysterical. “I don’t feel like it. I feel awkward and out of place literally all the time.”

Logan tilts his head, thoughtful. A thoughtful face shouldn’t be sexy. Stupid sexy Logan and his stupid hip-hugging jeans. And why are all his shirts sleeveless, showing off those toned arms? That’s not fair at all.

He turns that thoughtful look on her and Jean feels her mouth dry up.

“Doesn’t everyone?”

It takes her a second to remember what he’s referring to, and when she does she scoffs. “No.”

“Huh. That’s weird.”

Then Jean snorts grossly and starts giggling, flopping against Logan in the process. “_You’re_ weird!”

“Am not.”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are _too!_”

Logan nudges her with his elbow, but not hard enough to shove her off him. “I’m way less weird than you.”

“_Nuh uh_.” She says, like a child acting haughty, “You’re _way_ weirder, weirdo.”

“We’ve said it so much even the word sounds weird.”

“It _is_ weird. The e comes before the i and there’s no c anywhere! It breaks the law!”

Then Logan starts laughing, and Jean catches his laughter like a disease, and they both end up in a giggling heap in the grass.

Tomorrow, she’ll probably have a hangover to deal with. She’ll have to figure out an explanation for her friends as to why she disappeared, and she’ll probably have to explain herself to the Professor as well. She has no idea what to do about Scott. But right now she’s lying in the grass looking at the night sky with Logan’s jacket and her strangeness wrapped around her, and maybe they don’t fit her like they do him but she’s still warm and comfortable.

(She wakes up in her dorm bed with a water bottle and some aspirin on the bedside table. She reads the post-it next to them– ‘REHYDRATE!!! -L’– and thinks _I could learn to love him_.)


End file.
